


you knew me in my spiral

by skywalkerz



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Fluff and Angst, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, Sassy Will Graham, Will Graham Loves Dogs, hannibal's medical skills + being whipped, simp hannibal lecter, tw accident ?, tw blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27612499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywalkerz/pseuds/skywalkerz
Summary: 5:06 p.m.Will Graham. 12 Text Messages.Will Graham. 2 Voicemails.Will Graham. 3 Missed Calls.And that is not quite the lock-screen Hannibal wants to see on his phone.(Or: Winston goes missing when Hannibal is working.)
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 286





	you knew me in my spiral

_5:06 p.m._

_Will Graham. 12 Text Messages._

_Will Graham. 2 Voicemails._

_Will Graham. 3 Missed Calls._

And that is not quite the lock-screen Hannibal wants to see on his phone. He can immediately feel his chest clamping, heart rate increasing almost rapidly. For a split second, he contemplates calling Will, but the desire for instant information clouds him. Instead, he opens the text messages with shaking fingers. 

They're, well, frantic. But they're also not as fatal as they could be. 

_4:46 p.m. Fuck you. Answer your phone._

_4.47 p.m. I didn't mean to cuss at you, but seriously._

_4:49 p.m. Winston never came back with the others - please call me, Hannibal._

_4:55 p.m. I know you have clients but you're really incapable of glancing at your phone? You have what, 17 different talents and speak 6 languages and yet can't check your phone in a span of two hours. Fuck. Me._

I mean, Will is valid in his concerns. Hannibal usually is better at checking his phone throughout the day in between clients. Today had been a particular heavy amount of clients - Hannibal didn't want to say it, but they were all the needy bunch. It didn't give him quite enough time to dedicate to Will and his crisis. 

But Hannibal knows how damn important those dogs are to Will, and without even calling Will or shooting a text back, Hannibal is speeding out of the parking lot to his house, where Will (and of course, his canines) had recently moved in.

Hannibal's not easily frightened or shaken easily. However, when it comes to Will, he becomes possessive, frantically so. He already knows the state Will must in right now, he can see him in his mind, pacing - hands gripping his curls, face red and palms clammy. Hannibal curses himself mentally the entire drive - he should have been there, and he definitely should have been checking his phone like he usually does. 

It's like he stops the car, parks and opens the driver's side door all in two seconds when he arrives at his house. He abandons his briefcase in the car and heads into the house immediately. 

His earlier mental image of Will is very accurate when he swings the door open, clumsily and with zero grace. He is almost dumfounded when he sees Will in such a state.

"You motherfucker," Will grits, voice icy yet hot at the same time. He knows he is projecting, knows it isn't Hannibal's fault for having an important job and for Winston being a curious dog. But he can't help it. He has been alone for hours, not knowing what to do or if he is even really mentally stable enough at the moment to go look for his dog.

He's striding up to Hannibal in half a beat, nearly shoving the other man against the door in his stress and frustration. (Hannibal doesn't deserve it, but hey, he also doesn't say anything about it nor does he fight back). 

Hannibal can tell Will's been crying. No tears are currently falling, no, but his face is blotchy and mottled, his eyes are tired, hair unruly. And his voice above all is hoarse and strained. If the situation weren't so dire, Hannibal would currently be idolizing how Will is still in his day clothes, his dress shirt unbuttoned towards the top, showing off his prominent collarbones, as well as grey slacks that fit him too well. Hannibal would even crack a joke that Will's dress socks don't currently match. But it isn't the time, clearly.

"I called you how many times?" Will snaps, "And you didn't even want to, hm, I don't know, acknowledge that? Why didn't you call me on the way here?" Will asks, frustrated and wild. He has crowded all of Hannibal's space, whose back is still pressed against the door, and Will's eyebrows furrow.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to get here as soon as I possibly could." Hannibal replies, calm and collected, but god, if "Angry Will" doesn't scare the piss out of him. He wants to wrap Will up in his arms already, but he knows Will well enough to know that would not be very helpful right now.

"I know you could really give a fuck about _canines_ in your beautiful and spotless home," Will mocks, almost bitterly, "but it's important to me, and I love those dogs, Hannibal."

It kind of breaks Hannibal's heart. He knows, rationally, Will is only speaking from a place of fear - the fear of the unknown and the fear that something has happened to his favorite dog. But it does hurt hearing Will imply that Hannibal does not make Will's dog a priority. Of course he does, hell, they live here, and Hannibal gave up with lint rollers months ago. 

But Hannibal knows that Will is attached to the dogs. Will doesn't have tons of friends, doesn't have a large social circle. Perhaps Will wouldn't say it out loud, but those dogs really do take the role of companions at times. They comfort him, lay with him when he is feeling particularly lonely without Hannibal, they make him laugh - not really the most ideal "friends", but they're all Will had before Hannibal. They've been there for Will, before he even met Hannibal.

"Will," Hannibal says in a pleading tone, hand reaching up to cup Will's cheek. He can tell Will wants to fight the display of affection, but he resists. "I love _our_ dogs. I would never want anything bad to happen to them. And we are going to find Winston. Will, look at me." He commands when Will's eyes begin to water and he looks down, ashamed and feeling rather pathetic. 

"Look at me, beloved." So Will does.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here." He says, quiet and regretful.

"I'm scared. I love Winston. I'm sorry I'm being such a - a baby about all of this," Will groans, angrily wiping threatening tears out of his eyes. "I'm sorry I got so mad at you..." He trails, voice breaking, almost falling apart against Hannibal's body. 

"Shh, come here," Hannibal allows himself to wrap Will up for a moment, engulfing his body into his arms, feeling Will tightly wrap his own arms around Hannibal's middle. He digs his face into the crook of Hannibal's neck, wetting his skin without a doubt. 

Hannibal cards one hand through Will's hair, sorting through some of the tame knots, the other trailing along his back. "Listen to me, lovely. I am going to get back in my car and search places our Winston might have wandered. You stay here, and you can call me if he comes back when I am out." 

Will squeezes Hannibal's middle again before releasing his arms and detaching himself. He grips Hannibal's biceps for a moment for stability and balance. 

"Okay. I'm sorry. Please be safe." Will says, and the empathy and exhaustion and sorrow is dripping from his voice, so intense that Hannibal wishes he could take it from Will and carry it himself. Will can feel himself getting emotional again, so he simply leans his head up and presses their lips together, using one hand to grip the back of Hannibal's head to deepen the kiss. 

"I will. Don't worry, beloved." Hannibal says when Will pulls away. He's holding Will's hands, rubbing them with his thumbs gently. "I will be back as soon as I can." He presses a final kiss to Will's forehead, and then he's dropping Will's hands, turning to leave the house again.

* * *

"What the _fuck?"_ Will all but cries, voice strangled. "Where was he?"

He is immediately next to Hannibal, invading all personal space, desperately trying to peer at Winston's injuries.

Will's clad in sweats now, and his t-shirt is definitely inside out. His glasses barely hang onto the bridge of his nose now. He looks disheveled, scared, his face shifting to a very pale color. Hannibal takes note of the way his jaw clenches and unclenches, clearly trying to calm himself down.

Hannibal is hoisting Winston through the door, the poor thing whimpering in his arms. He looks pretty banged up, one of his front paws bleeding an alarming amount, it seems. He's not extremely heavy, but it is enough to leave Hannibal panting a bit as he gently places Winston onto the living area carpet. 

"Few blocks away. Will, can you please stay with him while I grab my medical instruments? I don't suspect anything is broken, but the paw will definitely require stitches." He speaks frantically as Will numbly plops on the floor next to his dog, almost resembling a small child as his bottom lip quivers. 

Hannibal hoists himself off of the floor, laying a hand on Will's back before he rushes upstairs. "Everything is okay, beloved. It looks worse than it is." He kisses the top of Will's head, and ignores the sniffles from his boyfriend that are absolutely making his heart ache. 

To be fair, Hannibal has never practiced medical skills on animals. Despite being a very qualified surgeon, he cannot deny he feels nervous about his capabilities. He very well could take Winston to a vet, but the most prestigious ones are most likely closed for the evening. Hannibal figures he might be better equipped to deal with this right now, especially if he wants to avoid infection for the dog.

He grabs gauze, his suture kit, an anti-septic, and a numbing cream he hopes translates well to animals. 

He nearly flies back down the stairs to Will and their dog, heart lurching at the way Will is slumped over Winston, rubbing him and talking to him like he doesn't know if these are their last moments together. 

"Will," he presses gently. "I want to start as soon as possible." The lighting in this room is definitely not ideal, nowhere near what an OR would give him, but it has to do.

Will tries to cling to Hannibal the entire time, but there is only so much Hannibal can perform with Will on top of him. He cleans the wound on Winston's front leg, relieved the active bleeding has mostly subsided, the fur being matted with dried blood and dirt. He cleans the best he can, not really sure how much is good enough. 

He feels around, trying to transcribe his surgeon skills onto this animal. He feels for abnormal masses or lumps, tries to assess if any fractures are present. (Not that he can be entirely sure, at the end of the day). 

He sprays the anti-septic along the wound and opens the suture kit. The stitching is not as glamorous as it could be, but Winston does not put up too much of a fight, thankfully. Hannibal figures the stitches are mediocre, and he's even more relieved that his boyfriend's dog isn't bleeding out in their home anymore. He realizes that they don't have a cone for Winston, making him more prone to lick at his stitches. He wraps over the stitches with some gauze in hopes it will prevent Winston from fiddling with the new sutures. As he wraps the dog's limb, he can feel Will clutching at his shirt as he bites at a hang nail, and his anxiety passes right onto Hannibal. 

Hannibal finishes with a sigh. Winston looks up at him, definitely looking less wrecked than he was when Hannibal found him. 

"God, fuck." Will lets out a deep expiration, probably holding his breath throughout the entire ordeal. He leans forward, rubbing Winston's head gently, almost afraid his touch will break his dog. 

"Hey, buddy," he chokes out. "Hi, how ya doin', huh? You feelin' better?" He whispers, stroking Winston's fur along his ears. Hannibal looks to Will, smiling softly, chest heaving and bubbling with all his adoration for Will. Sure, maybe Hannibal hasn't always adored dogs, but watching Will be so compassionate and happy with his own dogs has shifted Hannibal's perspective entirely. He reaches an arm up and rubs Will's back underneath his t-shirt as he coos to Winston. Will subconsciously arches his back towards Hannibal, clearly enjoying the delicate massage of Hannibal's fingers on his bare skin. 

"He's a good doctor, huh? Good looking, too. Y'know, he even lets me cuss him out when I'm being crazy." Will laughs, despite the exhaustion. Hannibal scoffs next to him, leans over and presses a wet and uncoordinated kiss to the back of Will's neck. 

"You are a firecracker when you want to be, that's true." He notes, smirking and stretching back and lying down completely on the floor - drained and adrenaline completely gone. 

Will peppers a kiss to Winston's head, scratching more as he looks over to Hannibal. His face softens, observing how Hannibal's long and lean body is stretched out before him. He's got his dress shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and there are some blood stains scattered on it. He looks absolutely fatigued, hands clasped on his abdomen with his eyes shut.

Will lets himself scoot over closer to Hannibal, hovering over his body. Hannibal must feel his presence, as he opens his eyes, hands almost immediately reaching up to capture Will's face in his hands. 

"Babe," Will drawls out, smitten and crazy for his boyfriend that just fixed his damn bloody dog in their living area after working as a psychiatrist all day long. "I owe you."

"Oh, do you?" Hannibal purrs, thumbs brushing over the shells of Will's ears, sending electricity down his spine.

"Thank you. I mean it," Will says, abandoning all space between them as he completely covers Hannibal's body with his own. Hannibal lets out a subtle grunt as Will allows all of his body weight to go limp. He rests his chin on his forearms which lay folded on Hannibal's sternum. 

"What would I even do without you?" Will questions, sincere and authentic, voice sweet like honey.

Hannibal cards a hand through Will's hair, admiring the way Will's eyes flutter with sleep as he does so. 

"You'll never have to know, I suppose." Hannibal grins back. "Keep an eye on him, this week. God forbid we have to restitch him in the kitchen next time." 

Will rolls his eyes, but smiles nevertheless. He leans forward to capture Hannibal's lips, using his hands to press against the floor to hover over Hannibal. 

"I love you, Will. And Winston." He can feel Will grinning manically against his mouth, and it makes him insane with adoration combined with some lust.

When Winston nudges Hannibal's thigh with his nose, he figures, maybe, the love is reciprocated. 

**Author's Note:**

> thx for reading as always!!!! <3


End file.
